Beyond The Glowing Stars
by wibblywobblywhogirl
Summary: A series of drabbles about Evy and the Doctor, with new adventures, including previously left out scenes from The Glowing Stars, and Across the Glowing Stars, as well!
1. The Healer From Another Planet

Typically, the life of a Total Regenerative Hyperbaric Chamber operator is not exactly worthy of the epics.

If you're on the front lines of the War of a Thousand Atrocities, doing the same job as I, you will get excitement, and danger, and stories to tell.

At least, I assume that must be true. I am just one of six operators in my city, the Trinifarian settlement of Adaron, nestled within the Stone King's fingertip itself, the mountain Nerysin.

The fingertip is not a very important part of the Stone King's anatomy, it would seem.

Nothing happens in Adaron. Not ever. We have only had posession of the Heart of the King twice since Adaron was settled. That is including the instance of actually settling. This makes Adaron a particularly unimpressive, architecturally outdated city, but that is acceptable. We do not complain, for the Stone King and the Queen of Skies have provided us with everything we may need.

Everything except perhaps entertainment, or excitement.

I went into operating to help my people, to perhaps see the greater side of our nature as brave and good Trinifarians.

What I usually see are elders with back pains, hoping the Total Regenerative Hyperbaric Chambers will cure them of their ailments. They are correct to hope, and they leave feeling young again, but I have not seen a single exciting event, not even the day I finished my medical training and became an operator.

That is, until this specific day, I hope.

"Haran, it might be prudent to get one of the chambers prepared. Joon says there are strangers, aliens even, who require our aid." Merni, a fellow operator of mine, says with a certain air of anticipation, walking briskly through the doors to the chamber room.

At first, I think she might be attempting to create humor.

"Quickly, it is of dire urgency. It is probable that we will actually need to perform manual operation." She pauses to give me a dark look, showing me the depth of her two pearly, rather attractive if I'm being honest, fangs, "It is of Kleo's doing. Ruth the Revolting."

I respond in kind, lifting my lip to show my fangs and my displeasure at the mere mention of our mortal enemy.

"Say no more, Merni. I will prepare the newest model. When will the patient arrive?" I say, turning to make my way over to the perfectly shiny white capsule. I begin inputting codes to start the initiation sequence, and the familiar flash of green, the light of the Stone King himself, flashes through the white marble.

"The strangers have little time to spare. They will be here-"

I flinch as the doors to the infirmary ward slam open, and strange looking creatures burst in, followed by the rest of my fellow operators.

They are short and skinny creatures, with no green veins decorating their skin. In fact... I cannot see their veins at all. They are an opaque pink-red, and their faces are all wrong. It nearly makes me flinch again to see their eyes above their mouths instead of where they should be, below them.

"She saved you, all of you. She didn't know a single one of you, yet she valued your lives over hers." The taller of the aliens says, adorned in a tight black outfit, clutching the golden-clad one to its body as if the fate of the universe depended upon it. His voice is tight, stretched to the point of breaking with emotion, "She could have listened to Ruth, took a shot in the dark in order to live. But she chose you over herself. Now it's time to return the favor."

The alien in gold, the one of whom he speaks, is entrancing to behold, practically glowing with a certain, strange energy. An energy not possessed by the one in black.

It... She... hangs limply in his arms, her oddly placed mouth parted, and her eyes closed, rolling behind the eyelids. She is obviously clinging to the last bit of life left in her body, her chest rising and falling just barely, shallowly.

"We must save this creature, this 'human', Haran. The Madroons had planned to explode our entire Galactic Locality, not only Trinifare, but all of our peaceful neighbors as well. This blessed one, the golden human, it is as he says. She chose to save us." One of my fellow operators says from behind the odd creatures, and a determined silence settles over the whole room. I walk forward and reach my arms out to the black clad alien, bowing slightly so as to make myself less threatening. His flushed pink face, covered in a sheen of perspiration, seems resigned, as if he is powerless and he knows it. He sends his precious charge over to me, his creepy five-fingered hands still reaching for her even as I sweep her away.

My fellow operators and I set to work, asking him questions about what ails her, and he answers in a whirlwind of words, leaving his mouth as if he may talk her back to the world of the living.

She has been used as a weapon, an organic nuclear fission reactor having been implanted into her brain.

Even if it had not been connected to the neurons of most vital parts of her cortex, it is still well beyond us to remove it. One wrong move, with this technology we do not fully understand, and either the golden woman dies or the entire planet dies.

It is a small part left of what used to be, he explains, so we simply repair some damaged connections within her brain, and seal her skull back up. The grey matter of her brain is starting to die, wither away due to lack of oxygen.

The alien does not like watching our work. He takes to pacing instead, running a hand through the fuzz on top of his tiny head as we work, attempting to keep most of her blood contained within her skin while performing a manual operation upon her vital organs. They, too, have started to die from lack of oxygen.

The alien chances a glance at us, and lets out a distressed grunt when his eyes fall upon the blood on our white robes. He goes back to pacing.

_He must care for her very much. They must be bonded._

Adaron is a relatively safe city, with the technology to keep its citizens healthy for many years. I have never had to tell someone that it is most probable that their bond-mate is going to die.

I do not want to tell this creature that. He seems... unstable, to say the least. There is something in his foreign eyes that speaks volumes of violence and unimaginable grief, something I would never deem it wise to provoke.

Yet, as the rise and fall of her chest stops for the fourth time during operation, I know someone needs to tell him, for any minute now, his bond-mate may pass on. I leave the patient in the capable hands of my fellow operators, turning my robe around to the side unmarred by blood, as is customary after a manual operation.

I approach him, head bowed slightly in respect and compassion, my hands clasped before me, bad news on my tongue. He doesn't even see me, through his distress.

"The cardiac system is not operational, all functionality has halted. Resuscitation is impossible at this point. " I hear from behind me, and my stomachs drop at the look on the face of the alien. His mouth opens and closes, moisture filling his eyes, and then it is falling like a blessing of rain from the Queen of Skies. He shakes his head, denying the evidence of his bond-mate's death.

"No, please." He says, his voice faint, barely a whisper, and then loud, forceful with the refusal of reality, "You have to do something, those coffins, what do they do?"

_I am sorry that you have lost your wife, your bond-mate_, I want to say, _We will all mourn her death with you, for she has saved us all._

That storm behind his eyes stops me.

My fellow operators seal the incisions in the human's body and wheel her over to the chamber I had prepared, lifting her carefully into it, and the alien follows their movements like a shadow.

"You don't understand what she did for you! You have to try harder, you have to bring her back. I know you can do it, c'mon! DO it, bring her back to me, or I'll... I'll..." He shouts, practically shoving some of the operators in his rush to get to his bond-mate, his wife, "You don't understand."

His fury dissipates when he reaches her, laid in the state-of-the-art hyperbaric chamber, still as death. He stares at her, rain falling from his eyes again as he strokes her long, dark cranial fur with those strange, five fingers of his.

"I lost you... I'm sorry. I tried for you Evy. I tried. I'm so sorry... I-"

He is silent after that, staring blankly at his deceased wife. His noble, brave, selfless deceased wife. We all stare at her as well, the reason we are alive at this very moment.

No one wants to approach him.

The chambers are designed to work specifically on living subjects. Yet, in some cases, the Total Regeneration sequence of the chambers has been known to revive deceased Trinifarians.

It may not work on this new species, a human, but looking at the distraught alien, I want to try. I would never be able to live with myself knowing we might have been able to save the blessed savior of Trinifare.

Urgency courses through me at the realization, knowing the electricity in her brain is slowly dissipating. Time is of utmost importance.

"Please," I say softly, inching forward to place a hand on the black-clad alien's shoulder, and he shoots a viciously devastated look at me. The message is clear.

_Leave us be, in our last moment together. Leave me to grieve._

But I will not give up. He may be thanking me by the end of this very exciting, very odd night.

"All may not be lost. If you will allow me to input the Regenerative sequence..." I say, and his glare softens, not quite into hope, but softens nonetheless. He wordlessly steps aside, allowing me to close the lid over the body of the golden alien.

I place my hand upon the cold marble of the chamber, focusing upon a sequence I have never had to use before now. It is for extreme cases, targeting the vital organs of comatose and deceased patients. A last chance, in a way.

When I remove my hand, the chamber does not pulse green, as it normally does when an occupant is inside.

It is pale and unresponsive as death.

I let out a breath, and turn to the alien. He seems numb, staring blankly at the white marble.

"The chamber will work to try and repair the damage done to your wife. The chances are not in her favor, I fear. She will most likely remain... deceased." I explain, and he doesn't make any acknowledgement of my words. He just turns around to slide down the chamber, sitting against the base. Standing vigil, waiting for his love to return to him.

I glance over my shoulder at the other operators, and they watch with sadness and sympathy. The veins of every one of us are darker and pulsing deeper, a testament to our grief for this golden human, our blessed savior. Merni cannot watch anymore, and leaves the chamber room quickly, followed by the other operators.

I am torn. He gives off the vibe that he would like to be left alone, yet something tells me that he shouldn't be.

I remember the storm in his eyes when she passed, and it causes me to sit next to him, my back against the chamber as well.

I sit silently for a very long while, and I am not even sure he wants me here. He doesn't speak, or look at me, or shift positions. He just sits, very still, and very silent, staring unseeingly.

"What's your name?"

I am startled by the sound of his voice through the long silence, so empty.

"I am called Haran." I say, and he nods slowly, as if getting his body to respond to his commands is a chore.

"I'm the Doctor." He says, and I vaguely remember learning in academy that on other planets, this is the word they use for their sort of medical operators, healers.

_Doctor. A healer from another planet._

"Doctor. Thank you for what you and your wife did. Ruth will be punished for his actions." I reassure him, then hesitate, wanting to ask, but feeling wary of that storm inside of him, "What was her name?"

"Evelyn Anne Crenshaw. Liked to be called Evy, though. She was an Evy, really. Not much of an Evelyn. Bit too exciting and fun to be an Evelyn." He says, and I don't quite follow his meaning, but I nod anyway.

"She was precious to you. I am sorry for your loss... We feel it as well. All of Trinifare will feel it." I say, and his throat bobs as he swallows thickly.

"Haran, she was the only reason to sail the stars, the sole purpose for me to continue plodding along this never-ending road that is my life." He says, looking at me for the first time in the hours that we have been sitting here, "Evy came to me at a time when I had nothing, absolutely nothing, and gave me someone to care for, to show the universe to."

The tides in his gold eyes, gold like his wife, swell with something abhorrent. Self-hatred, loathing and disgust.

"And I repaid her with letting her die a victim." He spits, venom in his words.

"You brought her to us, hoping we might save her. If it is the fault of anyone, it is ours to bear. Not yours, Doctor. Please, do not blame yourself for the wrongdoing of the Madroons. They are evil and vicious creatures, spreading their hatred to even one such as your Evelyn... The war spares no one." I say, realizing that perhaps he is not accustomed to the atrocities of our war. The lengths we force ourselves to go to in order to harm our mortal enemy, locked in battle for hundreds of years.

_He is no stranger to loss, though, that much I can tell._

He doesn't reply, just goes back to staring into nothing.

I lean my head back upon the chamber, wishing for once that my night had not been so eventful. I close my eyes against the sadness for this Doctor and his Evy, wondering what will happen to him now that he is alone.

But then, a colorful disturbance shining through my nearly translucent eyelids causes me to open my eyes, focus upon the Doctor with surprise.

The pulsing of green light illuminates his opaque skin in a two beat rhythm, reflects in his wide, disbelieving eyes.

_She is alive._


	2. Sick Day

I cough, or more accurately, hack like a dying hot-air balloon with a hole in it, and curl deeper into the warmth of my orange sheets. Even the extra blankets the Doctor put on top, combined with the fuzzy puppy-themed pajamas I've got on, can't keep me warm. It's like my body isn't producing heat, but cold… Even though I know that's not scientifically correct, because what is cold beside an absence of warmth?

_Ugh. Science makes my head hurt._

And hurt it does, throbbing almost as bad as my old migraines used to be. At first, before I was bedridden, the headache caused me to really panic. That is, until I realized it felt completely different from that killing machine in my brain. It just felt like the whole front half of my head was being stuffed full of stones…

"Doctor?" I croak against the soreness in my throat, and an anxious Time Lord peeks into the doorway that appears in my bedroom wall.

"Evy? You alright, do you need some more ice? Maybe a hot cloth for your headache?" He says, sweeping into the room to sit himself down next to my pathetic form, resting a hand on my waist. Even sick with the flu, my body reacts to his touch, wishing one of these days he might do something besides give me a kiss here and there.

_Like that's going to happen anytime soon. I'm a real catch at the moment, all whiny and drippy with snot. Yeah, real tantalizing._

_Besides, since when is he doing any of the kissing? I'm the one who seems to take charge in that department..._

_Being a snot monster definitely isn't helping my case though._

"I was just wondering if there was a way to… watch movies, or something?" I say, coughing again, my lungs feeling like evil little gremlins are squeezing them together, preventing them from expanding. When I do try to breathe deeply, I just end up wheezing before coughing again.

_This is so miserable. Not only is every joint in my body aching and throbbing, but I feel like I can hardly even breathe._

"Well, the cinema is just in the other room, if you think you can make it? But, there's only the sofas, so that wouldn't be very comfortable…" He pauses, his hand lightly moving up and down the curved shape my body makes covered by the blankets, probably meaning it to be comforting.

_Well, it is delightfully distracting, by any means…_

"Oh, that's okay… I'll just stay in here, then. If I move, I might die." I say, smiling pathetically at my attempt at a joke, before my expression twists into another cough. He just gives me a concerned look, obviously pitying me.

_I hate being pitied._

_We should be adventuring right now, exploring the unknown planets across the stars, saving strangers from certain doom, helping people right their wrongs, that sort of thing._

_Instead, I'm cooped up with the gosh dang dingle damned fricking fracking flu. Not even a cool, alien flu. Just the normal, Earthy flu._

_So lame._

_Makes me want to kick a puppy._

_No, no no no. Never… Not a puppy._

_Makes me want to kick a… Oh, I don't know, something less innocent than a puppy, but who would be helpless to stop me from kicking it, and hopefully deserves a bit of a kick…_

_….How high is my fever, again? _

"Well… I'm going to bring you some more ice chips to nibble on, maybe soothe that throat of yours. You should just rest your eyes for a bit, yeah?" He says, brushing a cool hand across my forehead, sweeping the hair away from my clammy skin. I just nod, and when he gets up, I curl up even more, closing my eyes and knowing nothing but aches and pains, all over.

After a while, I'm counting my heartbeat, the two-beat rhythm somehow relaxing. It's something to pay attention to besides the ball of pain that is my body, at least.

_13-14_

_15-16_

_17-18_

_19-20_

_21-22_

_23-24_

"Ah HA!"

I start at the loud voice of the Doctor, and when I inhale, it causes me to spasm into a fit of coughing. I groan, rolling over to see that he is pointing triumphantly to the wall.

"What, you stupid man, you scared me half to… Movie screen?"

He's grinning widely, a cup of crushed ice in his one hand, pointing with the other to the screen that has appeared on my wall, replacing my big antique mirror. It's complete with red curtains lining the edges, like an old fashioned silver-screen.

"I knew she'd come through for us, the clever old girl! I bet she's even lined up a movie you'd like to watch." He says, coming to sit next to me once again, and when he does, the pulsing green and white lights of my room dim.

"I love you, T.A.R.D.I.S." I whisper, sitting up a bit to take the cup of ice from the Doctor, gratefully spooning the coolness into my mouth. It does soothe my throat a bit, and lord knows I need the hydration…

"Oh, she definitely loves you, too. Look at that! She caters to you more than she ever did for me! You're spoiled, you are." He says, giving me a grin, and looking up at the screen once it begins to play.

"Beauty and the Beast." I say before it even really starts, and once I see I'm right, I can't help but smile. I'd always loved this movie when I was little. I must have seen it fifty times over, but I don't even care, "Want to stay with me and watch?"

It's more of a plea than a question, and he smiles softly, sidling up closer to me, getting under the blankets carefully.

"Course. I love Disney." He says.

We watch for a bit, and I wish I could sing along to all of the songs. I know them by heart, every single word, and I know all of the lines, too. The non-sung ones.

My throat simply won't allow that, though…

Once I finish my ice cup, I feel very cold again, and the Doctor feels so very warm. So I snuggle into him, resting my head on his shoulder. He is tense for a few heartbeats, before he drapes an arm over my shoulder, adjusting us so that we fit perfectly, comfortably.

"I'm going to get you sick," I say, nuzzling deeper into his chest even as the words leave my lips.

"Hi, different species, here. Your little human viruses are no match for a Time Lord." He says, and I chuckle, surprised that it doesn't make me cough.

"Well, good, because this is nice. And I've got a few more movies in mind." I say, and his chuckle moves my head up and down a bit, the vibration feeling pleasant against my throbbing head.

"Yeah, this is nice, isn't it?" He says, rubbing my arm soothingly, and then he's tracing patterns with his finger. It's so calming that I don't even get to watch the part where Gaston and the Beast fight.

No, I drift off long before that.

_Maybe I should get sick more often…_

* * *

**A/N**

**Hey guys, sorry about the delay for ATGS, it's coming up next, it's just these drabbles are so much fun to write, and I now have several lined up for this, because I just can't stop writing them... Oopsies.**

**Anyhoo, promise I'll get on that, hope you enjoy this bit of fluff for the time being though!**

**Love,**

**A.**


	3. The Girl He Gave Away

"You seriously don't have any money? Not even a single bill?" I say, laughing at the ridiculous man before me, running a hand through his chocolate hair.

Perfectly tousled chocolate hair. How? How does he do it?

"Oh, sorry, you're right, I should carry around a few pounds as we travel the entire universe, that'll come in handy a lot! Why didn't I think of that?" The Doctor says, his voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm. I raise a brow at him, and he just shakes his head, a little grin forming on his lips.

"You're just a hobo, aren't you? Just a dirty hobo with a blue box, not a single penny to his name." I say, bumping him playfully with my hip, and his grin widens.

"That's me, the one and only." He says, giving me a cheesy wink before turning away, "Wait here, I'll go er… finagle the ATM. Back in a tick."

I watch him make his way through the crowd on the street, his long brown coat sticking out like a sore thumb among the puffy, thick winter outfits of the people of London. I glance around, feeling out of place without the Doctor by my side.

A time travelling American in the 90's in London. Definitely don't belong…

I blow my hot breath into my hands, deciding to sit on the wide steps leading to a swanky looking shop. Mannequins dressed in shimmery and sultry clothing line the window above me, and I can't help but think of my golden dress. The one I wore to the 20's.

I do wish I knew what happened to that dress.

It's then that I notice a little girl.

She's wearing a worn coat, obviously used to be a bright pink, but is now more of a weary blush color. She has on gloves that are way too big for her. Mismatched, too.

She is hopping up and down in the crowd on the sidewalk, as if looking for something. Or someone. Her blonde hair bounces with her, and it makes me smile a bit.

I get up, wrapping my arms around myself against the cold, weaving my way through the shivering crowd.

_I already hate winter, but English winters are just bloody awful._

_Bloody awful. I'm even thinking like an English Hen, we come here so often…_

"You alright? Have you lost something?" I say to the girl, and she looks up at me with wide, strong, honey colored eyes, just a hint of vulnerability in them.

She's a bit frightened, I dare say.

"Only for the millionth time. It's my mum…" She says, and if I had only heard her voice, I'd say she's about 14 years old. But she's obviously younger, maybe 8 or 9, "She's always doing this."

I nod, and hold out a hand to her.

"Oh uh, well... I'd be happy to help you out! Do you have any idea where she might have gone?" I say, and she looks at my hand warily, not taking it.

"My mum told me not to talk to strangers." She says, her voice firm, but her eyes desperate to take that hand.

"Well, I'll just have to introduce myself, then! I'm Evelyn, but you can call me Evy. What's your name?" I say, giving her a tentative smile, not retracting my hand in case she changes her mind.

"I'm Rose." She says, then gives me one of the brightest smiles I think I've ever seen, taking my hand in her gawky glove. I return that sun-filled grin as best as I can, knowing I can't measure up to its brilliance.

_For once, I might have to admit to liking kids, just for this one little girl..._

"So, Rose, where do you think this mom of yours might be?" I say, leading her out of the thick of the crowd, back to the side of the buildings. It feels a bit warmer near these brick walls, too, thankfully.

"She really likes shoes, so I can usually find her at The Hackney Shop. They've got cheaper stuff, you know? But I checked there already…" She says, sitting down on the steps, looking much too frustrated for that pretty little face of hers, "She's a bit of a ditz sometimes, my mum."

I sit next to her, and give her a sympathetic smirk, only imagining the kind of person who loses their kid in a haze of shopping-frenzy induced hysteria.

"I don't get mad at her though. She doesn't really get to do this a lot, so she just gets excited…" Rose says, tucking a pin-straight blonde hair back behind her ear. I can't help but feel a stab of sadness, knowing that her family must be struggling. Badly.

"Well, what about your dad, can we phone him or something? Is he along for the shopping trip, or at work, or…?" I ask, and she shrugs.

"I don't have a dad."

I look down at my booted feet, wishing I wasn't such a blundering idiot.

_Perfect, mention the one thing probably sure to upset the poor kid even more. Doesn't have a dad… real great going Evy._

"S'okay, I never knew him." She says, and when I look up at her, she isn't frowning or anything. She must be used to it, the empty spot in her life.

"My mom didn't have a dad, either." I say, thinking of when my mom used to tell stories about all of the horrible step-fathers she had to go through, unimaginable pricks, all of them. Up until gramps came along, that is, late in her thirties. Much too late by then to do any real good in her development as a person, unfortunately, "It's hard."

She finally shows a little emotion then, nodding morosely, dropping her honey eyes to the snowy pavement.

"Yeah." She says, her lilting, cockney voice turning soft. I watch her for a moment, wishing I hadn't even brought it up. Maybe she wouldn't have thought about it today, if I hadn't forced her to.

But then I remember my mom's stories, and that look in her eye when she'd tell them, and I know that's impossible. Every little girl without a daddy thinks about him at least once a day…

"Well I'll tell you what. How about this…" I say, awkwardly patting her back, my smile turning into a bit of a grimace at the force of my social clumsiness, "You and I will walk around here a bit, see if we can't find her, and if not, then I'll take you home, wherever home is. I've got a kind of awesome ride."

She gives me a tongue-touched grin and nods, standing up and taking me with her. We walk around for a little while, calling out her mom's name, checking every single blondie in the gaggle of humans for a familiar face.

"Rose? Oh, Rose, there you are! You're always getting away from me, you are! I swear, I'm going to give you a collar, put you on a leash, and drag you around with me where ever I go!" I hear a voice behind us, that same lilting cockney, and turn to see a blonde woman, too young for the crow's feet around her eyes, rushing towards us. She practically shoves a lady out of the way to get to Rose, dropping her meager bags and throwing her arms around the mismatched little girl in pure relief.

"Yeah, well I'm gonna' do the same to you, mum!" Rose says, hands on her little hips after her mom releases her, "You've got to be more careful! You're just lucky Evy was here to help!"

It's strange, this mother-daughter relationship. I'd always been used to the dynamic of my own relationship with my mom. She was responsible for me, and I never talked back and just tried to do my best to obey her, when it suited me. But this… This is like they're watching out for one another. Just them two in this freezing city, the only ones they can really call family, can trust completely.

It yields a closeness that I'm actually a bit jealous of, and at the same time, makes me wish Rose didn't have to give up being a kid to have it…

"Evy, that you, then?" Jackie, Rose's mom says to me, and I nod. She gives me a huge hug, kissing my cheeks like I've known her all my life. I squirm a little, prickly in her sudden embrace. Rose laughs, a bubbly and infectious sound.

"Let her breathe, mum!"

Jackie finally releases me, and I laugh uncomfortably, wishing I could just kind of melt into the crowd now.

"Thank you! Thank you so much for taking care of my Rose, I dunno what I would've done if… Thank you!" She says, her thickly accented voice swimming with gratitude. I just give her a smile and shrug, my eyes flicking to Rose.

"Well, you've got a fantastic, brave young lady, here! It was my pleasure." I say, and Rose gives me another one of those brilliant, tongue-touched smiles.

We say goodbye, and I watch as they walk into the crowd, hand in hand, mismatched, ratty gloves interlocked comfortably, happily.

"Are we playing hide and seek? Did I miss the memo?" I hear the Doctor say, and I jump a little, not expecting him to be as close as he is.

"Sorry, had to help a little girl and her mom. Or, sorry, 'mum'. They were really lovely people." I say, and he follows my eyes to the pair of blondes before they disappear completely in the crowd of people.

His silence makes me look at him, and I see that he'd making a face. It's a rather familiar face, one I've come to loathe.

I loathe it because it's the face he makes when he's reminded of something painful, something he'll try to hide from me, from everyone and anyone. His face is blank, but his eyes tell me all I need to know.

_He knew her?_

"Who was she?" I ask quietly, and he tears his eyes away from the crowd to give me a smile, the emotion wiped clean from his eyes. Gold and blank now, just as obviously pained.

"I've got thirty pounds, should be enough for the show." He says, reaching into his pocket and waving the bills at me proudly.

And just like that, I realize who she is, that sunny girl, bright in the face of hardship, strong despite the odds being against her…

That little girl, little Rose, was the same one he speaks of sometimes, amongst the other names that he carries with him, in his hearts.

_Rose. Donna. _

_Rose. Donna. _

_Donna._

_Rose…_

Those are the ones he speaks of most often, however fleetingly, with such fondness, I know he must have parted with them recently. For good.

_I promised to never ask. I promised to not pry, and I'll keep that promise now…_

"Yeah, let's get a move on, or we'll miss it, you dirty hobo." I say, and I think I catch a grateful glimmer in his eye before he holds out his arm to me.

I take it without another word about that sunny little Rose.


	4. The First Time

**A/N**

**Hey guys, just wanted to warn you if you don't like erm... intense fluff, that this chapter is, well... Just look at the title lol **

**It's not a lemon, per se, but there will be references to sexual stuff. Still T, but just warning you :]**

**Enjoy, love you all,**

**-A.**

* * *

I cough, wheezing and struggling to force air back into my body.

_I'm alive!_

My eyes focus upon the sliver of light coming from above, what seems like at least fifty feet. The odd, drippy vines, and curve-shaped walls of the ravine had slowed my fall, thankfully... I told him we shouldn't be walking so close to the ravine, but no, he wanted to see if we could find a way across to the other side.

_Stupid man. Stupid, stupid man!_

I've landed right on my back, so hard I can barely move through the force of how the breath had left my body.

_That's going to ache tomorrow._

I open my mouth to shout to the Doctor, whose voice I hear echoing from above, from where I'd fallen. I've got to let him know I'm alright.

He sounds absolutely panicked, shouting my name over and over.

But I stop myself from answering, when a slithering noise catches my attention. A slithering, whispery sigh coming from the darkness around me.

My eyes are still adjusting, and I sit up as quietly as I can, glancing all around me, searching for the source.

A sniffling sound comes from my left, too close for comfort, so I get to my feet very carefully. Very slowly, very quietly.

I try to think quickly.

_If I lived in a deep, dark ravine, with barely any light reaching me day and night, what would I be like?_

_I'd rely on scent and sound, not sight. My eyes would be particularly sensitive to light, if existent at all. _

The sniffling sound is closer now, and another slithering sigh causes me to back up, until I hit a slimy but sharp wall.

I try to keep my breathing silent, but that's easier said than done when you're bloody terrified.

Oh, how I wish more than anything sometimes that I could manipulate still. Just a flick of my wrist, a tiny flame, and I might be able to see what's lurking around me.

_But it's just me now. No migraine, nothing special. Just me, and an unknown alien that seems to-_

My hand brushes across something particularly slimy on the rock wall, and it moves beneath my fingers. A squeak escapes my lips, before I clamp a hand over them.

_Shit. I'm dead. That's it. I'm just dead. Goodbye, whatever cruel planet this is. Goodbye Doctor, too bad I never got to seriously tell you how I feel. Goodbye everything else._

The slithery sighs sounds directly in front of me, warm breath blowing my hair back. My eyes squeeze shut, my whole body trembling.

Then, I hear the sound of a rock falling, somewhere further down the ravine. A hissing growl and a quick sliding sound later, whatever had been hunting me is gone. Gone to investigate the sound of the rock.

_Okay, so sound really tips them off, whatever they are. Perhaps they don't even have a good sense of smell, or their brains are just hardwired to react to sound better?_

I let out a breath, trying to get my shaking hands under control long enough to search the ground below me.

_That's how I'm going to get through this. Using their adaptations against them._

My hands find a few loose rocks, which I stick in my pockets as I find them.

_Four rocks, four chances. I can do this._

I slide along the wall, unsure of where else to go. No way I'm climbing fifty feet...

I shuffle along for what seems like ages, the darkness as absolute as it had been when my eyes were not adjusted. I can make out the outlines of the walls and my hands, but that's about it. I avoid looking up, to the sliver of light, because it just causes my eyes to have to adjust again.

That slithery sigh causes me to stop dead in my tracks again. My eyes dart through the darkness, and I find the source.

The outline before me is confusing, which makes it horrifying. Its top half seems to be changing shape constantly, like an amoeba or something. But it's bottom half is steady, trailing behind it like... like a snake, or something. I hold my breath and reach carefully into my pocket, gripping the largest of the rocks I'd found.

I turn slowly, and whip the rock down the ravine, and it clatters noisily, causing an echo. The creature wastes no time with growling, it silently brushes past me, wet, scaly skin sliding across my arm. Its tail, or whatever it is, hits my foot, and its all I can do not to whimper.

_"Looks pretty deep. Shouldn't we be a little careful, keep our distance maybe?" I had said._

_"Nah, just watch where you're stepping! You'll be fine." _

_I'm going to beat the crap out of the Doctor when I get out of this. _

* * *

I'm on my last rock, now. At least an hour of shuffling down this ravine, and nothing promising or inspiring. It's just a straight chasm, no tunnels or ways to climb up. The vines are only towards the top, where light can reach them, so I can't use those. Even if there were to be a place to climb up, the walls are slippery. It would be difficult.

Just as I begin to lose hope, the wall behind me, it starts to slant, more than it ever had. I pause, running my hands blindly along it, and I can feel some possible foot holds. Chancing a glance up to the sliver of light, it doesn't look as far away either... Perhaps the floor of the ravine had been gradually slanting up, and I hadn't even noticed.

Whatever the case, I take a deep breath and lift my foot onto the wall. It fits nicely in the first dent, so I hoist my body up, my hands searching for the next foot hold. I find it, and again, it ends up being okay.

I go on like that for a bit, using my hands to find possible foot holds, just praying that I'll not slip on whatever slimy substance coats the walls of this hellish ravine. I'm actually glad that I can't see how far up I am after about twenty minutes or so of slowly clamoring my way up. I might panic, then.

Once I reach the part of the ravine that the vines inhabit, I begin to really believe I'm going to make it. It gets a little easier, with the vines to reassure me. I can also grab onto them if I need a little extra support, so my ascent goes quicker after that. I can see the red color of the vines now, and my hands, and the sliver of light becomes the cloud of light, surrounding me once again. I start to laugh madly once my exhausted hands grip the very top of the ravine.

_Just one more pull, and I'm out!_

I shake as I pull my own weight up, then throw a leg onto the dusty ground and roll out of the ravine, breathing as if I'd just finished a marathon.

_Hell, I'd take a marathon over that any day._

I laugh again, letting out a scream of amazement, reveling in the warmth and light of this planet's star.

"That's right! You can't have me, I'm a God damn survivor! Suck it, ravine!" I shout in between breathless laughs, before laying quietly, resting my body, and the elation of being alive slowly seeps out of me.

_Now, I have to find my way back to the T.A.R.D.I.S..._

_I must have gone a mile or so down there, slow as I was going, so it can't be too terribly far..._

_Why isn't teleport a thing for us yet? Just push a button, or something, and boom, we're in the T.A.R.D.I.S... Maybe I should suggest that to the Doctor. That would be nice._

* * *

Back in the T.A.R.D.I.S, which took me another hour to find using landmarks and our previous tracks, I'm all cleaned up and now I'm just waiting.

He still hasn't come back, even though I had time to shower, dry my hair, listen to an entire thirty minutes of a playlist on the mp3/personal nano-assistant the Doctor got me for my birthday a few months before, and write in my journal for the past hour.

I really hope he hasn't gone down into the ravine, not with those things down there... I mean sure, he has the sonic, and they react to sound pretty drastically, but still.

Finally, I hear the sound of the doors opening from my room, so I leap up from the chair by my desk, hiding my journal away, and sprint through his room, pausing in the doorway to the console room.

He has his back to me, standing with bowed shoulders in front of the closed doors, his forehead resting on them.

"Watch where you're stepping, hmm?" I say from the doorway to his room, and he whips his head around so fast I think he might have given himself whiplash.

"Evy? You're...How? I thought you were- Oh, Evy!" He says, his voice wavering, and his gold eyes red around the edges. He runs to me, and crushes me in a hug, kissing my hair over and over with elated laughter.

Kissing isn't a strange thing for us, still a bit of a rare occurrence for my taste, but he has gotten used to it, I think. Ever since Solgard, he has been a bit more open in his affection. It only really serves to drive me even crazier, really, because he refuses to advance anything beyond innocent kisses.

_Really frustrating, in a very specific way, if you catch my drift._

It gets confusing, because sometimes he'll look at me with those smoldering eyes, and it'll make me think he does feel the way I do, but then others...

I mean, he's an alien, so what can I expect? Of course he'll be confusing, I couldn't even understand my own species half the time...

"How? I saw you fall! I searched down there for you, and I thought maybe the Transferal Serpentines, maybe they'd gotten your body, because... Oh, I can't tell you how great it makes this day that you're not dead." He says, and I grin, suddenly not really feeling like whaling on him as I'd planned...

"Well, it was dark down there, but I used some stones to keep the uh... serpentine things distracted. I climbed out, believe it or not!" I say, and he releases me from his death-grip to look at me, and his expression makes me catch my breath.

Desire. Desperate desire.

"I thought I'd lost you, failed you again... I thought...Evy, I was terrified that you were dead." He says softly, pressing his forehead down onto mine, and I smile, shaking my head, and his chocolate hair tickles my face.

"Still going strong. No matter how hard you try to get rid of me..." I say jokingly, bu he just frowns, his eyes on my lips.

My stomach turns excitedly. He's practically bursting with a needy sort of energy, a frantic and almost possessive edge to it, so intense that it breaches the walls I've put around my mind.

_I like it._

A single four-beat heartbeat passes.

He lets out a breath and his arms snake around me quickly to splay across my back, molding my body into his. Time Lord lips crash onto mine, greedy and distressed. I let out a surprised squeak that rapidly devolves into a pleased groan, feeling his hearts hammering away when I slide my hands up his neck, tangling into his hair.

_He's always so gentle and placid with his affection towards me, if he even shows it. Letting me know he cares, without taking it too far. Without complicating things too much, always so gentle._

_This is not gentle. _

His breath comes ragged, his hands gliding down to grip my backside, lifting me up onto the railing. I take the opportunity to wrap myself around him, gripping his waist with my thighs. His mouth ravages my neck, then, biting and kissing and leaving his mark, eliciting a series of involuntary sighs from me. I can feel the stirrings of his desire for me, and it makes my body clench with anticipation.

He is positively mad with the need to reassure himself that I'm still here, to get rid of the loss he thought he'd just experienced.

_This is good. Very good._

"I thought you were gone." He murmurs, and his harsh, low voice sends my body into a heated frenzy, tiny tremors running up and down my spine, goosebumps rising wherever his hands go.

"I'm here." I breathe, lifting his chin from my neck so that I can look him straight in those churning gold eyes, "And I'm not leaving anytime soon. You're stuck with me."

It seems that he can't bring himself to smile yet. With that frown, he kisses my forehead, my nose, making his way to my lips, sweeter than he's ever been. Slow and savory, it's all I can do to keep quiet.

He finally ceases his attack on my senses to look at me, wrapped around him like my life depends on it, perched precariously on the railing. He finally smiles, then, a forlorn and tiny smile that I feel the need to kiss away. His eyes stray to the doorway behind us before resting on me, smothering me with the force of his emotion.

"Do you… Would you want…" He says softly, his heartbeat spiking under my fingertips. My eyes widen, heat pooling in my stomach excitedly.

_If I had known that all I had to do at this point was to make him think I'd died, I would've done it months ago. _

_Months and months ago. No guilt, no regret. Totally would've done it._

Then he clears his throat before I can say anything, quickly blinking away the intensity in his eyes.

"Anyway, would've been a nasty way to go, yeah? I can't even tell you how relieved I am. Don't know what I'd do without you!" He says, hiding behind that explosive energy of his, stepping back to cause my feet to drop to the grated floor. I nearly whine with the disappointment.

After a hesitant pause, he starts to walk to the bedroom wing, stretching those lanky arms of his. A hand pushes his tousled hair back, as he does when he's uncomfortable.

_Or nervous._

"Yeah, would've been nasty." I say, straightening my blouse, and starting after him.

_Oh, no you don't, you slippery alien._

I catch up to him in the doorway, slipping my slight hand around one of his, forcing him to turn and look at me with those fragile eyes of his.

He's trying to keep whatever semblance of a boundary we've got alive, to keep both of us safe.

_Keep the distance… Keep us safe from one another._

"I'm sorry I scared you." I say, cupping his heated cheek, running a thumb over the stubbled skin, the chiseled frown. I keep my eyes on his as I turn him around to make my way over to those luxurious orange sheets, giving him the unspoken answer he'd wanted with that half-asked question as I lay us down onto them.

_Yes, I need you too._

He doesn't say the words I thought he might, not even through the throes of heated passion and desperation.

_I love you._

But it's okay, completely fine with me, for three reasons.

First, I say it enough for the both of us that night, unable to keep the floodgates shut through the distraction of entwining my body and mind with the fickle Time Lord.

Secondly, I can feel it in his thoughts whenever our minds collide. The terrifying knowledge that I am able to feel even a fraction of the ocean that is his consciousness comforts me just this once.

And third, words seem frivolous to put meaning on, as he shows me the love he feels. He shows me with the reverent, feathery touches, and the adoring way his mouth closes around my name. It means more, the way he shows me what he feels for me.

In fact, he shows me twice.

So I'm not really in a position to complain...


	5. Days Forgotten

Lately, the Doctor has been going through a 'Mad Scientist' phase. He's taken to holing up inside the labs, talking about chemistry concepts I don't really understand, jabbering on about solving problems that every organism has. I had tried to hang around a few times, but after nearly having my eyebrows singed off and my hair caught on fire, I'd given up on that.

_And I thought the Doctor cooking was dangerous…_

My feet make metallic clinking sounds on the grating of the T.A.R.D.I.S's halls, hands behind my back, my pace leisurely. She knows I have no destination in mind, I just feel like exploring, and since the Doctor is otherwise occupied, I'm a bit stranded in here. So, she's entertaining me, I suppose.

_Hopefully I get lost. I do love being lost, always exciting. Anything could happen._

At that thought, I notice a door. It's odd because it's wooden. And it's a door. An actual door.

Most of the rooms in the T.A.R.D.I.S don't have real doors, they're just walls until she opens the doorway for you. So this definitely catches my attention, to put it lightly.

I try the wooden doorknob, but it doesn't budge. Locked.

Now, why would there be a locked door? A locked wooden door, on which the sonic can't work?

It's like the Doctor is trying to keep himself out, or the T.A.R.D.I.S is keeping him out, everyone out...

"Odd…" I mutter, searching for a keyhole, or an external locking mechanism. Anything to help me get in.

When I find nothing, I try just ramming my shoulder against the door.

Still nothing. So I try the knob one last time, a last ditch effort before I abandon my cause.

The knob turns under my hand without me even grasping it, and I jump back in surprise when the door swings open quite suddenly.

_Okay, old girl… Subtlety is not your strong suit._

It's dark inside, quite dark, until lights flicker to life on the curved, coral structures lining the walls. The lights are red, the color of a stoplight. It's an enormous room, gigantic really, with no end in sight, and I watch red lights appear for what seems like miles ahead of me until I can't see further.

There are long shelves, and piles of what seems like junk, bathed in the red light, aisles and aisles of them.

_What is this, some kind of bigger-on-the-inside storage room? I mean honestly, how much garbage has the man collected over the years?_

My eyes spy something particularly odd on a shelf. It looks like a clay sculpture, one that must have been done by a small child.

_Perhaps it's not garbage?..._

I finally cross the threshold, entering the room with slight trepidation. I haven't forgotten that the room has been locked, kept shut, for God knows how long. A tremor runs down my spine, like someone walking upon my grave, as if something has just happened that I should know about...

I ignore the feeling, and continue walking forward, my eyes scanning the rows and rows of knick-knacks and curiosities.

I run my hands over the nearest shelf, seeing dusty old objects lined up on them. A little plastic, medieval knight, the silver paint seemingly rubbed off in a few places. A jar of some kind of pickled purple plant. Piles of papers with Gallifreyan written on them, runes that aren't being translated, for some reason. They scramble as if wanting to translate, but remain in Gallifreyan.

I replace them all in their original spots, and try the shelf a few aisles down. The first thing I see is a pile of cloth. In the red light, I can't tell if it's truly red, but it seems to be so. Gold definitely lines the intricately sewn material, the same cloth as the sheets and towels on board.

I pull it off the shelf, holding it out in front of me. Dust from the old thing catches in my throat, causing me to cough a bit.

_Wow, this thing looks ancient. If I were a high and mighty alien, I'd wear this, for sure._

It's a sort of… cape, a long, burgundy flowing cape, with a tall collar of gold. There are Gallifreyan runes carved onto the golden helmet, and although I suspect the Doctor might look ridiculous in this, I can't help the feeling of nostalgia. It's obviously Time Lord garb.

It's then that I get the feeling he wouldn't want me in here. It's like a vault, for memories, for things he never wants to see again, for whatever reason.

I place the cape back onto the shelf, dusting my hands off on my jeans.

_Okay… One more shelf, and then I'm leaving. Just one more, what harm can that do?_

I walk for quite a while, wanting to choose my last shelf wisely. After all, I am pretty much snooping into the Doctor's past, I'd best make it interesting.

I pause, doing eenie meenie miny moe, choosing a shelf on the right, bursting with objects of all shapes and types.

There's what looks like one of those old Barbie Jeeps, the kind some kids had when I was little that everyone who didn't was jealous of. Except it's definitely not a Barbie Jeep, it's a tricked out hovercar type thing. No wheels, simple controls on the inside, with a seat fit for only a child. Unfortunately, after getting it out and trying to stuff myself in it, I accept the fact that I won't fit. I replace it, moving on to the next item I see, a book.

It's a journal, titled Journal of Impossible Things, with words scribbled erratically across each page in the Doctor's handwriting. Hastily, but well-done, drawings of robots, called Cybermen, and there's the Daleks, and creatures I've never seen before, people I've never seen before…

I know the names though, if I'm thinking correctly. He doesn't really talk about his past, and I'd promised I would never ask… But he mentioned a few people.

_Rose, definitely Rose, and Donna? No, maybe this one's the Martha woman he mentioned once._

My finger traces over the picture he'd drawn of Rose, a doodle but so much more than that. He'd taken the time to artfully craft her lips and eyes, an already beautiful girl made flawless by his rendition of her.

He seems confused in this journal, though. It's like he had forgotten all of what had happened to him, like dreams he can't quite recall.

_I wish I could ask him about it._

Yet, once again, I get the feeling he wouldn't be happy if he knew I'd been in here. It was locked for a reason, and I think I'm starting to understand that reason. It's a place to put everything that he wishes he could forget, or things that have no place in his life anymore. It actually is sort of a storage room. A big, old, dusty, storage room, laced with time through the objects it holds.

I set the journal down gingerly, picking up a flute-type object lying next to it.

I blow into the end of it, but nothing happens, and I wonder if it really is even a flute.

The next thing I find myself investigating is a metal vase, with no apparent opening, or lid. The instant I touch the thing, though, it becomes transparent, entirely see-through, and inside of it, I can see bright light. It's like strands of electricity, flowing like water, bouncing off the wall of the vase.

I snatch my hand back, startled, but intrigued, staring at it and trying to calm the beating of my heart.

I can't shake the feeling that whatever's inside is… alive.

_But that doesn't make sense. It's just some kind of electrical current, or something._

I touch the vase again, and just as before, it becomes transparent, only this time, I close my eyes tightly, listening as deeply as I possibly can. Someone's whispering, murmuring. I can hear animals chirping and the wind rustling through stiff leaves.

"Father, I'm nervous about tomorrow." A tiny little voice says, and it makes me smile a bit.

"I was, too. But everyone has to do it. The Untempered Schism is what makes us Time Lords and Time Ladies. You want to be a Time Lady, don't you, darling?"

This voice is not familiar to any memory of mine, but I feel as though I know it… Something about the softness of it…

"Yes, Father… I've heard that some go mad, though."

"Some do, yes. Do you want to know what I did?"

A beat of silence.

"Mother says when she did it, she felt inspired."

The man laughs.

"Your mother brags, do you know that? I wasn't inspired... I ran, faster than a Wailing Sprigmonkey."

The little one's laughter is the last thing I hear before I open my eyes, and the echoes of a memory long forgotten leave my mind. Tears stain my cheeks, even though I don't feel sad. My throat is tight, even though I feel no grief.

_What was that? What just happened?_

"What are you?" I say, wiping my eyes and poking the metal vase again, expecting to hear another memory, another conversation.

I don't.

As I begin to leave the storage room, I wonder if the Doctor often comes in here. If he spends time going through all this old stuff, remembering times that have come to pass. Why would he though, when he'd probably just want to forget afterwards?

I pause by the door, turning to give all of this one last glance. It definitely deserves it.

Then I pass through the doorway, and…

And…

_What was I doing, again? Was I heading to the library? __Oh, no, no no that's right, I was up and about for a walk._

I turn behind me to see that I must have taken a moment to lean on the wall, lost in thought.

_I'm a bit of an airhead, aren't I? Well, let's keep going, then, see what the old girl has in store for me! She'll keep me entertained, since the Time Lord is useless…_

Lately, the Doctor has been going through a 'Mad Scientist' phase. He's taken to holing up inside the labs, talking about chemistry concepts I don't really understand, jabbering on about solving problems that every organism has. I had tried to hang around a few times, but after nearly having my eyebrows singed off and my hair caught on fire, I'd given up on that.

_And I thought the Doctor cooking was dangerous…_


	6. Snot So Bad

I have never been so disgustingly caked in gook. Alien gook, a rainbow of browns, the consistency of snot.

_Eugh._

I shudder yet again, whimpering as the Doctor opens the doors, trying so hard and failing not to get the stuff all over blue wood.

"Well that'll strip the paint off. I'll have to touch it up later…" He mutters, his tone nonchalant, as if we aren't dripping with Gyrgorn snot.

I know he feels the utter horror practically pouring from my mind into his.

_This might be the most disgusting thing that has happened to me in all these years. Which is impressive, if you think about it._

"It'll strip paint, but it won't hurt us?"

"No, of course not, the Gyrgorns use this stuff to burrow through the hard soil of Hawthorne easier, or the trash for the ones who live in the dumps. Harmless to living matter. Really an interesting adaptation don't you think? Brilliant creatures, easily startled, apparently, but brilliant nonetheless." He says, a hand on my snot covered lower back as we walk into the T.A.R.D.I.S.

"Wait but…" I say, looking down to my green and black sweater-covered arm, to see that the fabric is dissolving in some spots, becoming green colored goo, "Aww... This one was my favorite, too!"

"You think you've got it rough?" The Doctor says, and I look at him to see that holes have opened up all over one of his precious suits, leaving one of his shoulders completely bare, and one of his hair-peppered thighs exposed. His toes are visible through the white goo on his trainers.

I bite my lip, raising a hand to cover my mouth. He doesn't look amused, I know he really does love those suits of his, each and every one. I lose it though when one of his sleeves falls off, plopping to the floor in a pile of goopy half-fabric. I really can't help laughing.

He's so ridiculous, my lord of time and space, slowly being unclothed by alien goop, all grumpy and dejected.

"Yeah alright, laugh it up while you can! You're not looking much better, you know!" He says, feigning offense, but he cracks a reluctant smile. And then he's laughing with me, the sound I love so very much resonating through the console room.

But his smile turns devious, almost a playful snarl, and then in one swift movement, his hands propel me up and over his bare shoulder.

"Put me down, you crazy alien!" I screech, still laughing, and its then that my necklace falls off, the metal having become silver goo that is currently dripping from my chest to the Doctor's back.

_Eww._

"Not a chance! You're rude-"

"Okay, you can talk."

"And you've lost your vote on this ship!" He says, walking through the doorway where the bathroom shows itself to be. I hear a clatter on the stone tile floor, and see that the sonic has fallen behind us, from his pocket-turned-goo. He pauses for a moment, before bending backwards, tipping me drastically. I let out a little yelp when he lets me slide further down towards the ground.

"Grab it! We need that!" He says, laughing at my desperate wriggling on his shoulder. I huff and puff, snatching the sonic off the floor, and he jerks me up into the air, back into place on his shoulder. He walks us to the center of the too-large room, always empty except for the toilet, sink, and shower tube. Then he lets me slide off him, onto my feet, and we grin at each other's state of undress.

My white cotton camisole is clinging desperately to life, the valiant soldier it is. The sweater might as well have been made of tissue paper. My jeans seem to be sturdier than my sweater was. The Doctor's suit is in shambles, brown goo slithering its way down his chest, his white oxford following close behind.

We look ridiculous.

The Doctor reaches over to me, wiping some goo from under my eye, flicking it to the floor.

"Want to see something amazing?" He says, and I rake my gaze over him, up and down, giving him a smile.

"You mean there's more?" I say and he rolls his eyes, a hand running through his goopy hair, gluing it to the top of his head.

"Always with the flirting. You don't need to flirt, you know." He says, fiddling with the sonic, pressing a few tiny buttons, switching some itty bitty levers.

"I know." I say, and he smiles, his eyes still on the sonic. Then he raises it to the ceiling, pressing the big blue button, a buzzing echoing around the room.

Instantly, water is pouring from the ceiling, a heavy rain in the worst storm I can think of ever having experienced. Fat drops of water hit my skin, not quite painful, but not quite pleasant. I let out a screech of surprise, and the Doctor throws his head back in laughter.

The goop drips from our skin to the floor of the bathroom, and I have to admit he was right. It is pretty amazing. The T.A.R.D.I.S never ceases to amaze me.

We help each other get clean of the stuff, I wash his lanky back, his long fingers massage my scalp, until our bodies are free of alien snot.

_It feels so good to be clean, oh, I can't even describe._

The Doctor sonics the ceiling again, and the cleansing water halts immediately, without so much as another drip. We both might as well be free of clothing now, the goo having nearly completed its job. I wasn't really expecting to be able to save anything, though.

"Well then!" He says, shaking his head like a dog and showering me with water once again, "Shall we retire to the wardrobe?"

I smirk, and turn towards the door, knowing the T.A.R.D.I.S will take care of our mess, ever the dutiful maid. I only walk a few steps before the Doctor makes a low sound, humming deep in his chest.

"Maybe not the wardrobe?" He says, and I throw him a grin over my shoulder, sprinting through the doorway with a Time Lord hot on my heels.


	7. Secret

The Doctor is always up before I am. It's just a fact that whenever I open my eyes in the morning, I'll more than likely not find him next to me. But this time, the lights are still dimmed, almost to darkness, as the T.A.R.D.I.S does for us whenever we get in bed.

_It can't have been long since I've fallen asleep, maybe an hour, maybe two._

I hear footsteps at my back, but I don't turn over to look at him. It'd just make him feel bad for waking me, and honestly I don't mind. I give him a hard time about it sometimes, poking fun at him, teasing. But it's always just that, teasing. He can do whatever he wants whenever he pleases, because I know I'd ask the same from him if I were… an eccentric alien who apparently doesn't appreciate the art of sleeping for many hours at a time.

The Doctor shuffles around for a bit. I hear the slide of fabric upon fabric and skin.

_He's getting dressed for the day, already, the strange man._

He slowly makes his way out of the room, the rubber of his trainers making muted squeaks on the marble of our floor before he reaches the metal grating of the console room.

I listen for a while longer, but I don't hear anything anymore, not the clang of tools, not the tip-tapping of the console interface.

My body drifts back to sleep, the lull of unconsciousness stronger than the curiosity.

I open my eyes, the lights dimmed still, just like the night before.

A crash had woken me, that much I know, as if someone had dropped something in the room. I lay still, just listening, and after quite a while, I hear the Doctor let out a breath. Then the slight squeaks of his trainers again. Out into the console room, and this time I do hear more. Not the usual sounds of him working on the T.A.R.D.I.S or researching some idea that has jarred him out of sleep.

The slight click of the doors closing.

_Has he just left?_

I sit up, suddenly feeling very awake despite the fact that I've only slept a maximum of 120 minutes.

_He's going on adventures without me, the sly little sneak._

I get out of bed, grabbing my thin green robe off the desk's chair, and wrapping it around the oversized shirt I'd been sleeping in.

_That, or... _

The niggling of an ancient and powerful human instinct tugs at my hearts, in the very back of my mind. A timeless and intrinsic instinct that is nearly impossible to suppress.

Jealousy.

_That, or he's meeting someone. Another... female._

I want to reprimand myself for even thinking the sour thought. We've been through so much together, why would he seek someone else out? I'm perfectly good enough for him, and he's made it clear that he feels the way I do, time and time again.

_Please, you're a mutt who never finished school and was too socially retarded to make friends. It's been years. You think a man who jumps from planet to planet, almost never staying in one place for more than a day, wouldn't get bored with the same old mutt after a few years?_

I growl as I slip on some formal black flats in my hurry to get out the door, definitely not matching my current outfit.

_Yes I'm planning to go into public in a gigantic shirt and undies covered in a ratty old robe, but hey, at least my shoes are fancy._

I whirl my way through the console room, pausing to check the external environment scanner. I don't recognize any of the coordinates, the planet overview, or the atmosphere content.

_Oh, good, a secret planet that I know nothing about that he goes to while I'm asleep. How reassuring._

I open the doors slowly, quietly, and see that it's just about twilight on whatever planet this is. I look down, past my fancy footwear, to see ruddy, auburn colored grass, ever so slightly metallic, shining in the waning light of four suns. F

our suns, each spaced equally upon the horizon, each setting at the same time.

_Probably makes for an oddly shaped orbit. I've never seen something like it..._

I close the doors behind me, wrapping my robe tighter around my body, against the chill of the coming absence of those suns. I walk for a bit, into the field of reddish grass, following the indentations of a size 12 men's shoe in the sea of pliable plants. It takes me a while to reach the entrance to a line of strange, but magnificent flora.

Bulbous tubes of red, a diameter of probably a foot and a half, give or take, with silver veins winding their way up into a poof of silver on top. The tubes, the trunks, they're pulsing slightly, moving of their own accord without the help of the breeze. I would say they look like trees... But they just don't. I've never seen organisms like this, definitely plant-life, but able to move on their own.

I approach one in particular and gather the courage to place my hand upon it, the surface surprisingly tough and scratchy against my palm. It jiggles away from my hand as if my touch had tickled, and then comes back to press itself against my palm once again, slowly... Hesitantly.

_It's as if it's curious._

A disbelieving smile spreads upon my lips, and my fingers stroke the odd tree, causing it to sway back and forth, its silver top spreading out to shower me with silver cottony tufts.

A giggle of delight bubbles out from me, and I snatch a tuft out of the air, holding it between my fingers.

_Why would the Doctor hide this from me? He would've known I'd love this, I mean trees who respond to stimuli, can move on their own? It's amazing, absolutely amazing._

My eyes focus on the red of the bulbous trunk behind the silver tuft trapped in my grasp, and the two colors, one in front of the other, seem important.

_Silver and red, red and silver. _

I tuck the silver poof into my robe pocket and head into the thick of the jostling forest of tubular trees, following the trail once again. The tubes lean towards me slightly, as if they can hear my footfalls, or feel the vibrations of them. I know they don't have eyes, so they can't see me, but it's a bit disconcerting, having an entire forest hover over you.

_One tube-tree, I like. A hundred of them, not so much._

At last, I pull through the thick of the trees, and they end abruptly, in a neat little line near a cliff. Walking out near the cliff, and looking over...

Well, it's breathtaking...

The wind is stronger in this spot, blowing my loose hair into the view before me.

Miles upon miles of the tube-trees. Or I assume, since all I can see over the horizon are the silver poofs of tree tops, every once in a while thinning to reveal the reddish-auburn grass. The tufts of silver sway happily under the burning orange sky, and it takes this, the crushing beauty of this sight, to make me realize what was so special about this planet. I let out a breath of annoyance at myself, taking the cottony puff out of my pocket, and letting it sit in my palm until the wind spirits it away...

The silver tree-tops, the red grass, the sunset causing the sky to be deep orange.

"I'm an idiot..." I mutter, watching the silver puffball disappear.

_This planet..._

"I wouldn't say idiot." I hear his voice, and it causes me to jump a bit. I look all around me, left and right along the cliff-face, behind me.

"Where are you?"

"Down here."

I get on my knees to peek my head over the cliff-face, seeing the Doctor sitting on a ledge about a foot or two down, one leg swinging over the edge.

It reminds me of my old perch near the waterfall, back at college. Precarious and easily dangerous if you made a wrong step. Perfect for nutters like us.

He looks up at me, giving me a little smile, and jerks his chin, silently asking me to come down.

I slide over the edge until I'm nearly dangling off the side of the cliff. Only then do my feet touch his ledge, and I allow myself to sink onto it, sitting with my back against the edge and my knees up to my chin.

We just watch the trees wiggle in the breeze below us for a bit, and he silently takes my hand in his.

"I searched for a place like this in my last regeneration, when I traveled alone" he says, "It took me so many years to find one that was just right. I tried out so many planets, and when I happened upon this one, it clicked."

"Why?" I say, my fingers massaging the fleshy parts of his palms, a hand massage, if you will, "Did you just want to remember, or..."

He shakes his head.

"It's funny... I left Gallifrey, and I was glad. The Time Lords as a society, well... Saying I never really fit in is an understatement. They were scornful, and borderline hateful to me. I was exiled, and I was glad of it." He says, lifting his face to the darkening orange of the sky with the most fleeting of smiles, "When I stole the T.A.R.D.I.S, I was so enthralled with the idea of leaving it all behind."

He drops his eyes to the wiggling tops of the silver trees.

"But when it was all gone, when I realized I could never see any of it again..."

I wanted to say I understood. I wanted to say it so badly, but I couldn't. I never can say that whenever he speaks of Gallifrey, or his people. I can never say I understand.

_I think he's grateful that I don't, though._

"So, when I found this place, it became a sort of memento. Like a painting that some stranger does for you off of something you describe. Not very close to what you remember, but close enough."

I nod, not knowing what to say... I feel as though I've interrupted something sacred of his. We share so much, every single day of our lives, and so little is kept to ourselves, to be our very own. I have my journal, and he allows me to keep it as a separate piece of myself, most of the time...

_This must be his. And I've just stumbled across it, stomped all over it, leaving my own little mark on something that was supposed to be his._

"I can leave... If you want." I say, and he looks at me at last, raising a brow.

"Do you want to?"

"Well... No, I just figured- I mean, this is private, isn't it? You meant to keep it secret. I don't mind, really. I can go." I say, and his eyes soften as he rests his head back onto the rocky cliff-face.

"I don't do this often, you know. It's not like I was trying to keep you in the dark, I just thought maybe you'd misunderstand."

"Misunderstand?" I say, following his lead, and resting my head back, drinking in the sights some more.

"I didn't want you to think I came here to... mourn. 'Cause that's not what it's for. That's what it used to be, but not anymore." He says, and I realize that maybe this is one of those rare times. Quite like when I get to wake up before him, and see him sleeping, his face clean of frown lines.

This is one of those times that I get to see him at peace. In this place, a planet so like Gallifrey in coloring and atmosphere, where he can become better, perhaps heal a bit of himself, basking in the orange light he didn't know he would miss.

It's so... unlike him. In a good way, a very good way.

He's trying to get better instead of purposefully tearing himself to bits, thinking he deserves nothing less than death by self-destruction.

I swallow thickly, my hearts swelling so enthusiastically that it causes my throat to tighten.

_My Time Lord without the Time War. I might get to see that in a hundred years or so, if he keeps this kind of thing up._

I smile, and lean my head down onto his shoulder, causing him to scoot a little closer, his hand to tighten around mine.

We sit for quite a while, until the four suns have all but disappeared over the sea of silver treetops, and when we're back in bed after the trek through the forest, he falls asleep almost immediately.

Not a frown line to be seen.


End file.
